Arthur Armstrong and the Sorcerer's Stone
by KitCloudkicker52885
Summary: Arthur Armstrong, a Muggle-Born boy starting his first year at Hogwarts. Follow Arthur and his friends, Harry, Ron and Hermione as they go through their first year at Hogwarts, learning to cast spells, battling trolls and uncovering mysteries and secrets.
1. Chapter 1: Hogwarts' Invitation Letter

**Arthur Armstrong and the Wizardling World of Harry Potter**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I'm just creating my own magical character and putting him into the wizardling world of Harry Potter**

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**Chapter One**

** The Hogwarts' Invitation Letter**

Arthur Armstrong was staring at a tall, strict-looking woman wearing emerald-green robes, his mouth gaping in surprise and wonderment.

He was in his room, playing on his Super Nintendo when he heard the doorbell ring and barely five minutes after that, he was called downstairs by his Mom to meet this woman, who was an absolute stranger to him, and to be told that he was a—

"I'm a—_WHAT_?" he said, staring at the woman who, he learned, was called Professor McGonagall

"A wizard, Mr. Armstrong," replied the strict, no-nonsense-looking woman, her lip curling into something like a smile. "Meaning that you possess the gift of magic."

"But," he said, looking at his stunned-looking mother, "this must be some kind of trick! There's no such thing as magic—maybe in cartoons or movies, but it's not real."

"Oh but it is," Professor McGonagall said patiently, she had seen this kind of behavior more times than she could count in her years. She drew her wand from the inside of her robes, pointed it at a Dr Pepper drink can that was sitting on the carpet table and gave it flick. The can morphed into cute little black kitten.

Arthur and his mother stared at the kitten that was his drink can with popping eyes and gaping mouths. The kitten looked up at them and gave a little meow.

"Now then," said Professor McGonagall, turning the kitten back into a drink can with a casual wave of her wand. "we've established that magic is indeed real. And with that out of the way, I've come to tell you that you are a wizard and that you have been invited to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—or perhaps, Hogwarts for short."

"Are you quite sure he's a—a—well, magical?" Mrs. Armstrong asked, sounding a little confused and a little doubtful.

"Certainly, we are sure," replied Professor McGonagall. "Has anything strange ever happened around him when he was scared or angry?"

Mrs. Armstrong thought for a moment, rapping her brain. Arthur stared at his mother, bracing himself for a loud shout of "April Fool!" despite the fact that it was the first of July instead of April.

Mrs. Armstrong finally nodded, shuddering as she did so.

"Mom, when has anything strange ever happened around me?" Arthur asked weakly, feeling a little trapped with the possibility of something he viewed as a fantasy actually being a reality, even after seeing his drink can turned into a kitten, he still have trouble believing it. It defied all the logics he had been taught.

"When you were five," his mother said. "I didn't think much about it, I thought it was an overload of electricity, but when Mark called you a baby because you were crying that he wouldn't let you play on his Nintendo… well, you know how furious you get when anyone calls you that…"

Mark was Arthur's older brother, but he wasn't anything like the bullying big brother that he used to be, in fact, he and Arthur has bonded shortly after that incident and have been the best of friends ever since. Mark has even gotten protective of his little brother, not that Arthur needed much protection. He can handle himself pretty well. But Mark would protect Arthur from people beyond his size and age group

"Mom, I know I have a bit of a tempter toward bullying behavior. But what's strange about that? I hate bullies and I hate being called a baby."

"The Nintendo blew up, honey," she said softly.

Arthur stared, looking shocked.

"It exploded and caused a small fire—of course, I didn't think you had anything to do with it," his mother assured him. "You were clearly startled and frightened when it happened, you even cried, and Mark comforted you while your Dad and I put out the fire. But now that I think of it, you might have done it accidentally."

"Yes, accidental magic is usually triggered by a powerful emotion." said Professor McGonagall, nodding. "But the fact that he blow something up with accidental magic proves that he might be a powerful wizard."

But Arthur wasn't paying attention to her, he was thinking of the other, more recent strange thing that happened. He was shoved into a locker by the school bully and the moment the door slammed shut, he blinked and the next thing he knew, he was standing outside the locker, while the bully was crammed inside the locker. It took hours to get his big bulky body out of that small, tight space! Had they magically switched places?

Since Professor McGonagall said that accidental magic was triggered by strong emotions, he had to remember how he was feeling at the time, he remember feeling furious and terrified in equal measure. Furious at the injustice of it all, the bully picks on him and his friends and went unpunished! Terrified because the bully was huge and bulky! He was an older kid who was held back several years. All muscles and no brains! Not a very good combination at all.

"Miss McGonagall, ma'am," Arthur said and McGonagall smiled at the politeness he was displaying toward her. "I did do magic a couple of months ago, but at the time, I didn't know it was me or what to make of it."

"What did you do, Mr. Armstrong?" she asked.

"Please, ma'am, call me Arthur," Arthur said, blushing a little. "Mr. Armstrong is my Dad."

Professor McGonagall nearly smiled. "Very well, Arthur it is then. Now, do tell me, what did you do?"

"I…" Arthur said with a glance at his mother, of whom he had not spoken to about this incident in school and was afraid of her reaction to how a big kid treated him at school. He was, after all, her 'baby' of whom she must be extra protective of. Arthur did not mind being her baby, her last child but it did annoy him sometimes that she was so protective of him. "A big kid shoved me into his locker…"

As he had expected, his mother raised an almighty uproar and screamed "WHAT?" so furiously that even McGonagall backed away from her.

"When did this happened? Why didn't you tell me?" his mother asked angrily. "Give me names and I'll track them down and give them a piece of my mind!"

Arthur was sure that a 'piece of her mind' was an unforgettable old-fashion over-the-knees spanking. Arthur had only ever been spanked once in his whole life and had no desire for a repeat experience.

"Well?" Professor McGonagall prompted him. "What happened when this big child forced you into his locker?"

"Yes, Arthur, tell us…"

Just then, fifteen-year-old Mark came downstairs, coming down to refill his water bottle. He gets thirsty a lot and his mother made him cut back on the soda pops, so he was drinking a lot of iced water that summer.

"Mom, can I have a Dr Pepper?" Mark asked, seeing Arthur's empty drink can on the carpet table.

"No, Mark dear, you already had one at lunch, remember?" his mother reminded him. "You're limited to one can a day."

"But Mom….!" he moaned, acting a little childishly as he tend to do sometimes when he doesn't get what he wanted. He recoiled a little at his mother's raised eyebrow that warns him not to challenge her. "I—I only meant, they just don't put enough in a can!"

"I disagree. I think they put just the right amount in a can," Mrs. Armstrong said smoothly. "It makes it all the easier to limit your soda intakes. Now hush, your brother is about to tell us happened to him at school."

"What, what happened, little bro?" Mark asked, suddenly going into Protective Big Brother mode. "Gimme names and I'll rearrange their face!" he said, punching a fist into his hand as emphasis.

"You will do no such thing!" hissed Mrs. Armstrong. "You'll end up in so much trouble!"

Professor McGonagall chuckles at the irony of that last statement, for Mrs. Peterson had said basically the same thing just moments before.

"So what?" Mark retorted. "I don't care. If someone's messing with my little brother, they'd have to deal with me… and no one wants to have to deal with this:" he raised his arms and flecked his muscles, which were rather impressive and shows that he had worked out

Professor McGonagall smiled at the love and protectiveness Mark possessed for Arthur.

"So," Mark said, pulling Arthur into a one-arm hug and giving him an affective, gentle nuggie, which made Arthur giggle: "Mark… geoff." "What happened in school, dear little bro?"

Arthur did not struggle to get loose; he was enjoying the affection he was getting from his big brother. He wrapped an arm around his brother's waist while Mark had him in a gentle, affectionate headlock. This is what they call their official brotherly hug

"Before I tell you, let me tell you why she's here." Arthur said, gesturing to Professor McGonagall.

Mark looked around at her. "Isn't it a little early for Halloween, Miss….?"

"Minerva McGonagall," she said, giving him a piercing stare, as if he was being a little impolite. "And I am not dressed for Halloween. For your information, this is how I usually dress. I am a witch."

"Oh come off it," Mark scoffed. "You know full well that there's no such thing as wit—"

He broke off as McGonagall pulled out her wand again and gave it a flick, and Mark legs begin to move in a kind of tap dance against his will.

"What the ruddy h—"

But before he could finish the sentence, Professor McGonagall gave her wand another flick and soapy pink bubbles appeared in his mouth, giving him a horrible soapy taste in his mouth.

"Ew, yuck!" Mark cried as he spat soapsuds out of his mouth.

"I am sure your mother taught you better than to swear in front of the ladies." Professor McGonagall said sternly as she removed the spells with a wave of her wand.

"I certainly did!" said Mrs. Peterson hotly. "You're not supposed to swear at all! Especially not in front of Arthur!"

Arthur crossed his arms and made an annoyed noise that sounded like a scoff. Why did his mother have to baby him? He had heard plenty of swearwords from some kids in his own class; he just wasn't foolish enough to actually say them himself.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Mark said. "And I believe you, you really are a witch! But why are you here?"

"To tell you and your family that your brother is a wizard." Professor McGonagall said simply.

Silence fell as Mark tries to digest this.

"W-wh-what?" he stammered. "My little brother's a wizard? But what about me? I mean, if he's a wizard, am I one too?"

"I'm sorry, but you are what my world call, a Muggle—a term meaning a non-magical person." Professor McGonagall said sadly, she really hates this part of the job, to tell the older siblings of the Muggle-Born children that they possess no magical power. She knew how hard it was on the family to have one non-magical child and one child who is magical

"I'm a Muggle…. and he's a wizard?" asked a stunned Mark, pointing at Arthur.

"That is correct." Professor McGonagall said softy, and then she pulled herself into a business-like manner. "Now, there is a decision to make, I am here to invite Arthur to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a boarding school inside a vast castle in Scotland, where children between the ages of eleven and seventeen will learn not only to use magic, but also how to control it. You see, if Arthur goes uneducated in the magical arts, he may blow up more than just a… this 'tendo thing you've mentioned."

"Tendo? You mean the Nintendo?" Mark's eyes suddenly widened and he rounded on his younger brother. "_YOU_ did that? _YOU_ blew up my Nintendo?"

Arthur suddenly looked frightened and he ducked to hide behind his mother. Now in the safety of his mother, he peered around her at Mark and said: "I'm sorry, I'm sooooo sorry! I didn't mean to do it! I didn't know I had magic!"

"Little bro, calm down." Mark said in a softer voice, pulling Arthur out from behind their mother and giving him a hug. "I'm not angry, I'm just surprised, that's all. But I think this McGonagall lady's right. You have to go to this Hogwarts place before you blow anything else up. But…" He released Arthur and turned to McGonagall. "Will we see him often?

"If by 'often' you mean once a week or every other weekends, then I'm afraid not." McGonagall said gently. "But if he chooses, he will be allowed to come home for the holidays, such as the Christmas and Easter holidays as well as the summer holidays, otherwise you'll only see him in the summertime."

"Make sure you come home EVERY holidays or I'll….I'll…." Mark said, but he didn't have the heart to come up with a threat as Arthur hugged him so tightly.

"I will." Arthur promised.

"Right then, here's your letter, make sure you read it." Professor McGonagall handed Arthur thick envelope made of yellowish parchment with his name and address written in emerald green ink.

**Mr. A. Armstrong**

**The Living Room **

**1233 Lion Den Road, Ottery St. Catchpole**

**Devon, England. **

He turned it around and saw a seal baring a coat of arms: A lion, a badger, an eagle and a snake all surrounding the large letter H. He pointed at the seal.

"Is that the school's symbol?" he asked Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, it is," she replied, "Now open it."

He tore the seal off and extracted two pieces of parchment and read the first one.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chef Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)**

**Dear Mr. ****Armstrong****,**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress**

"Owl?" Arthur asked, with a confused expression that even McGonagall found cute. He was a cute kid and curiosity made him cuter.

"In our world, owls are used to send one another messages, they deliver your messages or bring you your mail." Professor McGonagall explained.

"Why don't you just use a postman for that?" asked Mark. "I mean, using owls to deliver mails sounds a bit risky to me, what if the owl loses it?"

"That can happen if you use a non-magical owl," said Professor McGonagall. "Magical owls may not appear to have magical powers, but they can understand their owners' instructions and know where to go. Of course, it can also happen if the bird gets old and feeble. And believe me, they would rather fight to the death than lose their master's mail or allow someone else to read it."

Arthur was reading the second piece of parchment and listening at the same time.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WHICHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

**UNIFORM  
First-year students will require:  
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)  
Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.**

**COURSE BOOKS  
All students should have a copy of each of the following:**

**The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk**

**A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot**

**Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling**

**A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch**

**One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore**

**Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger**

**Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander**

**The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble**

**OTHER EQUIPMENT**

**1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set brass scales**

**Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.**

**PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS**

"Why not?" Arthur asked sadly as he read the last line. He knew that witches and wizards (mostly witches in the Muggles' view) fly on brooms and so he assumed that was what a broomstick was for.

"First years rarely know how to fly when they arrive at school, but do not worry, you will be learning to fly on one of the school brooms with a flying teacher overseeing your flight until you are able to fly safely."

"Can we buy all of this in London?" asked Mrs. Armstrong, who had taken Arthur's school supply list and was reading it.

"Yes, if you know where to go," replied Professor McGonagall. "I will be your escort to _Diagon Alley, _where you will be able to purchase his school supplies. Do you wish to go now or wait for a later date?"

Mrs. Armstrong frowned thoughtfully for a moment.

"I guess we could go next week on Wednesday," said Mrs. Armstrong slowly, after considering.

"Alright, I shall be back by next Wednesday, what time should I pick you up?" McGonagall asked.

"Does ten a.m. sound good?" Mark asked, who was _NEVER _a morning person and any time before nine-thirty a.m. was much too early to get up in his opinion

"Mark!" his mother reprimanded him, knowing full well why he'd pick that time. "We'll have to get up earlier than that if we want to thoroughly explore a wizards' outlet mall before lunchtime!" She was a big shopper, she loves to shop. And from the name of the place: "Diagon Alley," she concluded that the place was like a Halloween outlet mall with people in cloaks or robes, going about doing their shopping. "Can you be here at seven in the morning?" she asked McGonagall while Mark groaned in despair.

"Certainly, I shall be back at that time and date. _Be ready to go when I arrive_." Professor McGonagall said, speaking the last line directly to Mark, who groaned in response. She did not want to arrive to find the older boy in his pajamas or wearing less clothing. And then she turned on the spot and vanished

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**Author's Note: I hope you like my new Harry Potter story with my own created character. Arthur is starting first year along with the Golden Trio in 1991. I hope I captured the reactions and emotions of a Muggle-Born and his family finding out his wizardry pretty well. Please review to let me know how I did. **


	2. Chapter 2: Diagon Alley

**Arthur Armstrong and the Sorcerer's Stone**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.  
**

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** Chapter Two**

** Diagon Alley **

The week went by very slowly, a little _too_ slowly for Arthur and his mother's liking (who was bitterly wishing they'd went to Diagon Alley that very day Professor McGonagall showed up to tell them that Arthur was a wizard). Once or twice, they could have sworn that time had stopped whenever they glance at a clock. Every minute felt like hours, hours felt days as they eagerly waited for that fateful Wednesday to come. Arthur spent a lot of time in his room, reading his books or playing on his Super Nintendo to pass the time.

Later, Mark managed to get Arthur off the video games one day, stating firmly that it wasn't healthy for him to stay cooped up in his room all the time and invited him to play basketball with him outside

"See? You stay in your room too long…'n your technique gets sloppy!" Mark panted after making a basket, dodging around Arthur to do so. "And you're supposed to be _good_ at basketball," he added, passing the ball to Arthur and shifting into a defensive stance, his legs and arms spread out wide as if to block three or four people, his body becoming the shape of an 'X'.

"Oh, just you wait," Arthur replied slyly, with a mischievous grin on his face. "I'm about to find my second wing—Hi, Vanessa!" he called, looking over his brother's shoulder.

Mark smirked. "Nice try, lil bro… Vanessa is spending the weekend at her grandmother's. And did you honestly think that that would work on—_HEY_!"

Arthur sped past Mark while he has been speaking, shot the ball into the basket and scored!

"Ha, ha! He shoots, he scored!" Arthur yelled triumphantly, doing a little victory dance, though he look like he was dancing for the rain to fall.

"Why, you little—!" Mark made a dash for Arthur, but Arthur was already running toward the house, heading to the kitchen, into the safety of their mother's presence

"Mom, save me!" Arthur cried in mocked terror, ducking behind his mother as Mark ran into the kitchen after him but stopped dead in front of their mother, who had her arms crossed and wearing an amused smile on her face as she stood hiding Arthur behind her.

"Mark, what are you doing to your brother now?" she asked, her eyes twinkles with amusement.

"He pulled a fast one on me, Mom." Mark said with mocked indignation. "He tricked me, Mommy," he added, pretending to sniff while wiping away non-existence tears

Mrs. Armstrong laughed. They were playful brothers; they wouldn't do anything to harm each other, they only do this to amuse themselves as well as their parents. Her sons were better than cable TV in her opinion!

"Oh, no, he tricked you!" she gasped dramatically. She likes to play along whenever her boys do this. "Whatever will I do with him?"

"Punish him, Mommy." Mark said, giving her the saddest and most pathetic puppy dog face he could manage while retraining himself from laughing with difficulty. His mother was just so funny at times.

"Oh no, Mommy, please don't punish me!" Arthur cried in mocked terror, backing away from her.

He made a dash for the living room, but his mother grabbed him and begun tickling him! He screamed in laugher, squirming so much that he ended up on the floor on his back, his mother and brother pinning him to the floor, tickling him.

"Hey, what's going on here?" said a deep, amused voice. "What are you doing to my favorite son?"

They all stopped and looked up. Standing in the doorway, was a tall man in United Kingdom military uniform.

"Dad!" Arthur cried happily as he managed to escape his captors and run to hug his Dad.

"What am I, a sack of potatoes?" asked Mark in mocked indignation.

General Mathew Armstrong smiled, his eyes twinkling. "No, you're my _other, _first-born favorite son."

"Oh, okay, I guess that's a little better…" said Mark, pretending to look dejected.

His Dad laughed as he pulled Mark into a hug. "Oh, stop this nonsense! You know I love you both equally!"

"Yeah, I know…" Mark muttered sheepishly.

"_Now can I tell him?_" Arthur whispered to his mother.

Mrs. Peterson glanced at her husband and then whispered: "_No, wait until after dinner._"

"_But you said that yesterday,_" Arthur argued. "_And the day before that, and the day before that…_"

"_I know, I know…_" Mrs. Armstrong whispered, shushing him. "_Okay, fine, tell him tonight then_."

She had been putting off telling her husband about their son's magical talents, because she couldn't predict his reaction to it and she couldn't guarantee a positive reaction. But now she knew that they could not put it off any longer, not when Professor McGonagall was due back to take them to Diagon Alley the next morning...

Dinner was a half enjoyable, half tensed affair that night as Mr. Armstrong talked animatedly about his day, telling them about his dealings with some wayward soldiers and how they tried to prank him with a bucket of water over his office doorway. Though he was amused as the bucket prank backfired on them as he told them to go in ahead of him.

"…and then, _SPLASH_! Both of them were drenched, their uniforms soaking wet and dripping all over place!" Mr. Armstrong laughed uproariously as he told the story over dinner. Then he turned serious. "But I had to be stern and strict with them; this was the military after all. So I had them to put on about hundred and fifty pounds on their backs and march about five miles….and I don't think they'll be pranking anyone else in the military again in a hurry."

"How did you know they were about to prank you, Dad?" inquired Mark interestedly.

"Son, you're talking to the man who raised _you._" Mr. Peterson said, clapping Mark on the shoulder. "You were a bit of a prankster in your days, and since then, I've been consciously on the alert for possible pranks. And it's an added bonus of being observant. I noticed my office door was slightly ajar and then I saw the bucket standing on top of my door. So instead of opening the door myself, I got the pranksters to do it for me."

Mark laughed, banging the table with his hand. "Good one, Dad, that'll teach 'em not to mess with you! You defiantly got style!"

If Arthur wasn't feeling so nervous at the prospect of telling his Dad that he was a wizard and would be attending a magic school in the coming fall, he would be laughing along with his Dad and his brother. But now, every time he thought of telling his Dad what he was, his stomach would do a somersault, or else squirm in discomfort. As they finished their apple pie, Arthur decided that the moment has come. He wondered if his Dad would believe, or would he, Arthur, be scorned at for even thinking that such a place as Hogwarts exists?"

"Dad?" Arthur said nervously. He took it as a good sign that his Dad looked at him with concern. His Dad was concerned that something was making him so nervous. "I—I have something to tell you…and um, I'm not sure how you're going to take it…." He saw the concern in his Dad's eyes intensified; saw that he was bracing himself for bad news. "So….so I'm just gonna come right out and say it." He took a deep breath. "Dad, I'm… a wizard."

Silence fell around the table after this announcement as Mr. Armstrong digested this. And then he smiled and shook his head.

"Good one, Arthur, you really had me going there."

"Honey…" Mrs. Armstrong said quietly. "I'm afraid he's not joking."

Tears filled Arthur's eyes. "Did you think I'd joke about something this?" he said with his face downcast. "Do you really that I'd lie about something like this?"

Perhaps he was overreacting, but then again, intense nervousness and overreaction to the worse conclusion go hand-in-hand.

Mr. Armstrong was in a state of confusion. He glanced all around the table, as if looking for someone to help him. To his relief, Mark intervened

"Bro," interjected Mark. "He's not saying you're lying, magic is something he thought as a fictional thing—not real. This is just going to hard for him to swallow." Turning to his father, Mark said: "Magic is real, Dad. I saw and experienced it myself. And Arthur is a wizard. We found out that it was actually Arthur's magic that blew up my Nintendo."

"Really?" Mr. Armstrong said, looking at Arthur as though seeing him clearly for the first time. "Well…. I guess that explains the weird things that happen around you, huh Arthur? Yeah, I remember when you were about four and you wanted a cookie that we wouldn't let you have. The cookie jar was on the highest shelf and yet, somehow you got a cookie in your hand and you were eating it. Yes, being a wizard would make sense for that occurrence. "

Arthur's heart leapt. His Dad was accepting him for what he was! He jumped out of his seat and dashed to his Dad and hugged him.

As his Dad embraced him, he said: "Wizard or not, you'll always be my son."

Arthur cried happily as he embraced his Dad tightly.

Later that night, Mrs. Armstrong told her husband about Hogwarts and Mr. Armstrong came to the agreement to send Arthur there when she told him that Arthur would need to learn to control his magic or he might end up blowing up the house.

"One thing I dislike about this deal," Mr. Armstrong said as he and Mrs. Armstrong sat alone together in the sitting room, sitting in comfortable incliners with a cup of tea on hand. "Is that once he starts school, we won't see him much anymore except for those two holidays and the summer breaks."

"I know." Mrs. Armstrong said sadly.

"Are you sure this isn't some kind of scam? To rip us off…or kidnap Arthur?" Mr. Armstrong asked. He did not doubt his son's magic, it's just that not being able to see more of his youngest son throughout the year didn't sit well with him.

Mrs. Armstrong shuddered at that possibility, but she shook her head. "I am positive. I saw proof that magic is real. But all the same, I too feel like they're taking away our baby. But he needs this."

"I know," Mr. Armstrong said and then he asked: "When is this McGonagall woman supposed to be back?"

"At seven a.m. tomorrow." Mrs. Armstrong replied

"Ouch, Mark's not gonna like that." Mr. Armstrong said as he winced for his oldest son's sake. "And then, you're going to this Diagon Alley? How are you going to pay for stuff there, they might use different kind of money."

"McGonagall said she'd take us to Grigotts's Wizarding Bank first and we can exchange our Muggle money for wizard's money."

"Muggle?'

"It's a term for a non-magical person apparently." Mrs. Armstrong explained. "So we will have to make a huge withdrawal from our bank account and then exchange it once we get to Diagon Alley."

"I'm going with you." Mr. Armstrong declared. "I want to see the world my son is about to become accustom to."

"That's fine with me. You know, we haven't had a family outing in ages. This would be a good time to do it."

"I agree, dear."

It was six-thirty in the morning when Mrs. Armstrong woke up. She got up, dressed and head downstairs to prepare breakfast. Arthur was already sitting at the table with a glass of orange juice.

"G'morning, Mom!" he said brightly, he was clearly trembling with excitement.

"Good morning, dear." Mrs. Armstrong smiled. "How long have you been up?"

"About thirty minutes," Arthur replied as his mother put on an apron to start breakfast. "I woke up early and then I couldn't get back to sleep!

"I don't blame you, dear. It's not everyday that you get to see a real wizarding market place. Oh, I can't wait!"

"Yeah, me either. Can I help you with breakfast, Mom?" Arthur just couldn't sit still with all that building excitement and eagerness.

"Why, thank you, Arthur." Mrs. Armstrong said happily, who always enjoys her sons voluntarily helping out in the kitchen.

Just as Arthur was frying sausages and bacons, while his mother scrambled some eggs on a skillet, preparing a few servings of scramble egg, there came a military-style wake-up call, played on a trumpet by Arthur's Dad, who was waking Mark.

"Oh dear…" sighed Mrs. Peterson, still preparing scramble eggs. "Arthur, tread carefully around Mark, he's going to be very unpleasant this early in the morning…"

Sure enough, a glaring Mark came stomping into the kitchen, his hair standing on end and his eyes were slits. He sat down at the table and scowled at his plate, as if telling it by looks to start filling itself up with some food to make up for his being up out of bed at this ungodly hour!

Arthur knew Mark could be a little grumpy on school mornings, but as this was the summer vacation, Mark was used to sleeping in and that now he was getting up thirty minutes earlier than he'd normally would on a school day, he was downright unpleasant.

Arthur didn't say anything as he slid the sausages and bacon off the frying pan onto a serving dish. He then carried it over to the table and set it down in front of his glowering brother, who silently begins helping himself to some sausages and bacons.

"Want some milk or orange juice?" Arthur asked nervously.

Mark did not look at him as he growled: "Orange juice…"

Mrs. Armstrong set the scrambled eggs on the table, giving Mark a look of deep disapproval.

"Now, now, Mark." she said. "We know you're not a morning person, but there's no need to take that tone with Arthur. Now ask nicely."

Mark glared at her and then he recoiled when she glared right back with her superior glare.

"Sorry, Mum," he muttered. "Orange juice, please Arthur."

They all ate breakfast and then they went back upstairs to get dressed.

At seven o'clock, the doorbell rang and Mr. Armstrong opened the door, expecting to see a tall, intimidating woman in emerald green with her hair in a tight bun, as Mrs. Armstrong described her to him. But instead, there stood a short plump, kind-faced woman with red hair.

"Oh hello, are you the Armstrongs?" she asked kindly.

"Yes, yes we are." Mr. Armstrong replied. "And you are…?"

"Oh, my name is Molly Weasley, nice to meet you," she said. "Are you ready to go to Diagon Alley?"

Mrs. Armstrong frowned in puzzlement. "But aren't we supposed to be escorted there by Minerva McGonagall?"

"Change of plan, I'm afraid," said Mrs. Weasley. "Apparently something came up, and since I live just outside the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, she requested that I'd be your escort for today. So, you're Arthur?" she asked, smiling down at him.

"Yes, ma'am." Arthur said politely.

"Such a polite nice boy," Mrs. Weasley said approvingly. "I've got a son your age too, you know. Maybe you could come around my house sometime and play with him."

"Mum…." groaned a voice from outside the house.

"Oh, come out and meet my children," Mrs. Weasley said and she went back outside and they followed her.

Standing outside the house were four boys and one girl, all with flaming red hair.

She pulled Arthur over to the youngest of her sons, who was tall and gangly with freckles, big hands and feet and a long nose.

"This is Ron. Ron, this is Arthur, he's going to be in your year at Hogwarts." she said, making the introducing. By the sound of it, she wanted Ron to make a friend before school.

"'Lo, Arthur," Ron said in a slightly sleepy voice, shaking Arthur's hand. "This is a little weird; you have the same first name as my Dad."

"Oh, well I supposed you could give me a nickname when we're at school." Arthur said, deciding that he like this boy, he seems nice.

"These two are Fred and George," Mrs. Weasley said, pointing out the twins to the Armstrongs. "This is Percy," she pointed to the eldest boy who was about Mark's age. "And this is Ginny" she added, looking adoringly at her youngest and only daughter."

"I'm Betty Armstrong and this is my husband, Mathew." Mrs. Armstrong said, gesturing to herself and her husband. "And that's Mark." she added, gesturing to her still-glowering son.

"What's with him?" Ron muttered to Arthur, regarding Mark warily.

"Oh, he's really not a morning person…" Arthur replied with half a glance toward his brother. "He's just really grumpy in the morning, so don't mind him."

"Don't blame him, though." Ron said with a resentful glance at his mother. "It is quite early to be up…" He then let out a big yawn, stretching out his right arm while coving his yawning mouth with his left hand.

"So, how are we getting there?" Mrs. Armstrong asked Mrs. Weasley

"We will have to drive to London," Mrs. Weasley said, looking unhappy with the idea. "I'm used to the faster, magical ways of traveling, but seeing as you are Muggles, we will have to travel the non-magical way."

Mr. Armstrong frowned. "Haven't you got a car?' he asked

"No… although my husband, Arthur would love one." Mrs. Weasley replied.

"But how are we going to fit…" Mrs. Armstrong raised hand and counted the heads around her. "…ten people into one car?"

"Oh….Well…I supposed I could… put an Undetectable Extension Charm on the car…." Mrs. Weasley said slowly, as though she was disagreeing with herself. She certainly dislikes the idea very much. _Oh, Arthur Weasley, you are starting to rub off on me! _

"Put a what charm—?" asked Mr. Armstrong.

"It's a charm that expands and enlarge the inside of an object with no apparent change on the outside," Mrs. Weasley explained. "For example," she held up her handbag. "If the Undetectable Extension Charm was place on this handbag, you will be able to fit a whole storeroom's worth of things in here, but on the outside, it will still look this small."

"Mary Poppins…." Mrs. Armstrong murmured, looking amused. "I swear she kept her whole house in that big handbag!"

"Yes, exactly," Mrs. Weasley said, who knew of Mary Poppins since Mr. Weasley had once led her into a Muggle theater (after Confounding a Muggle into giving them free tickets, thinking they had already paid for them). It was a really good…._movie, was it called?_ Anyway, it was really a nice thing to see. And one just couldn't be married to Arthur Weasley and not know a thing or two (however inaccurate) about Muggles

"Well," said Mr. Armstrong. "If you could make our van like Mary Poppin's purse, then by all means, do it. It's right this way."

Mr. Armstrong stepped outside and led Mrs. Weasley to the family minivan and slid the side door open.

Mrs. Weasley glanced all around, making sure nobody was watching, before drawing out her wand and sticking her head and wand arm into the minivan. As the Armstrongs and the Weasley kids gathered around the van, they could hear her muttering a series of incantations, which sounded like a series of modified Latin words.

"Are all spells supposed to be in Latin?" Arthur asked the Weasley kids interestedly.

The boy called Percy answered pompously: "Yes. Although you can also use Rune symbols for spells too, you don't need a wand or incantation to use them. For example, if you—"

"Oh, shut up, Percy, you're boring us to death," said one of the twins.

"Yeah," said the other. "That'll be the headline in the _Prophet_ tomorrow. '_Beware of Big-Head Percy, Who Can Kill with a Dull, Boring Tone!_'"

Percy turned red; Mark was looking at him with sympathy, feeling sorry for him.

"Hey!" Arthur said angrily, stepping in front of Percy and facing the twins. "Don't tell him to shut up, I was interested in what he had to say, and it was rather rude of you to interrupt!" he turned back to Percy, who looked surprised at Arthur's defense of him. "Now go on, Percy, what you were saying about Rune symbols?"

Delighted, Percy looks as though he'd just made a new best friend as he burst into an overenthusiastic speech, in which he explained in full details how spells can be activated by a Rune symbol. That if a wizard lost his wand and wishes to ward his house with protective enchantments, the wizard would only need to carve a Rune symbol into the wall of the house and a protective enchantment would come upon the house, so that dark wizards cannot see or enter the house.

By the end of his speech, Mark understood why the twins picked on Percy. He held himself with too much pride and self-importance, that he unintentionally made himself sound arrogant. He thought that Percy's parents probably praised him too much; he can see how that would greatly annoy the twins to the point of forever teasing Percy. That is what made Mark sympathize Percy. Percy was very intelligent and very knowledgeable, but it was his arrogance that would turn most people off.

Arthur looks as though he was thinking the same thing, but he was polite to Percy and thanked him for explaining that particular branch of magic.

"There," said Mrs. Weasley, withdrawing herself from the minivan and putting her wand away. "I think that should do the trick. We'll just have to avoid letting the Muggles see ten people getting in and out of this band."

"Van, Mrs. Weasley, with a V," Arthur corrected her.

"Oh, thank you, dear." Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. "Now then, shall we get going?"

The Weasley kids climbed into the minivan, followed by Mark and Arthur, whose mouths were hanging open. Mrs. Weasley had indeed expanded the inside of the minivan, but not by much. It was enlarged enough to add extra seats and the seats had been multiplied to fit ten people in the van quite comfortably.

"Where to?" Mr. Armstrong asked Mrs. Weasley as he started the van and backed out of the drive and into the street.

"Do you know where Charing Cross Road is?" asked Mrs. Weasley, who was sitting comfortably just behind the driver's seat.

"Yes, it's a street in London, is that where we need to go?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Yes."

"Okay. Here we go."

And off they went. It was not a long journey; they stopped at the bank first and made a ten thousand pounds withdrawal from there. And then they arrived at Charing Cross Road within thirty minutes. Mr. Armstrong parked in front of a parking meter between a bookshop and a music shop.

Everybody got out of the van very slowly so that the Muggles don't see ten people getting out all at once.

"Well, here we are," said Mrs. Weasley when they were all out of the van and were facing the space between the bookshop and the music shop.  
Arthur looked at the place Mrs. Weasley had indicated and saw a shabby pub with and old-fashion hanging sign that read "The Leaky Cauldron."

Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong frowned in bewilderment, and Mark was scratching his head.

"But," said Mark, staring at the Leaky Cauldron, apparently he was seeing something different than what Arthur was seeing. "It's just an empty alley…"

Arthur looked at Mrs. Weasley and she answered his questioning look.

"Muggle Repelling Charms are set upon the place, dear," she said with a kind smile. "The Leaky Cauldron looks like an unpleasant-looking alley to the Muggles, and there are other Charms set upon it to make them not want to come near it."

"Muggles can't see it unless a witch or wizard is holding on to them." Percy further explained. "So, hold your parents' hands and they'll be able to see it too."

Arthur looked left and right between his parents and then, slowly grasped their hands. Percy meanwhile placed a hand on Mark's shoulder.

Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong looked simply amazed as a grubby old pub slowly appeared before their eyes. Mark gasped in surprise at what he was seeing,

"Well, we'd best not hang around here much longer, not in broad daylight. " Mrs. Weasley said. "Let's go in. After you, dear," she said kindly to Arthur, gesturing him and his family inside.

It looks to Arthur like an old fashion bar, the bar, tables and chairs were all made of wood. There were men and women drinking at the tables, all wearing cloaks, robes and some of them were wearing pointed hats.

Mrs. Armstrong sniffed disapprovingly as she watched all these witches and wizards drinking what she was sure were alcoholic drinks.

Mrs. Weasley must've disapproved too, because she said: "This way, please." She led them out into the courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash bin standing against the far brick wall.

"Drinking that alcohol this early in the day!" Mrs. Armstrong muttered furiously.

"Yes, Betty, I know," Mrs. Weasley said warily. "I don't know what they're thinking of, drinking during the hours where children are passing through the pub!" She pulled out her wand. "Stand back," she said. "Three up, two across," she muttered, tapping a certain brick to the left above the trash bin.

The Armstrongs watched in amazement as the brick Mrs. Weasley had tapped begin to wriggle. Next thing they knew, all the bricks in the wall were moving, each bricks spinning around as they moved to the side, forming a large archway, an archway to a long cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight. There was a long row of shops on both sides. At the far end of the street in the distant, they could just make out half of a snowy white building

"Wow…." Mrs. Armstrong said softly, gazing around.

"Our first stop is Gringotts," Mrs. Weasley said. "As you can't really shop without a few Galleons, Sickles and Knuts."

"Without what?" Arthur asked nervously.

"Wizard money," Ron muttered to him, for some reason he was looking gloomy as he said this. "The gold Galleon is the most valuable coin in Wizard money. It takes sixteen silver Sickles to make a Galleon and twenty-nine bronze Knuts to make a Sickle.

"A single Galleon is worth about five pounds in Muggle money, seven dollars and fifty cent in U.S. Muggle money" Percy explained to the bewildered-looking Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong.

"Ah," Mr. Armstrong said, comprehension dawning on his face. "That explanation simplified things. Thanks, Percy."

Mrs. Armstrong checked her handbag nervously. "I only hope we got enough money here to exchange to buy Arthur's school supplies and a few…." She turned slightly pink. "…new shoes, a new purse and some souvenirs from a few of the shops

Mr. Armstrong was looking a little uncomfortable now, but he made no comments.

They moved along down the street of Diagon Alley, the Armstrongs looking left and right at the displays in every shop windows. Arthur, Ron, Fred and George stopped by a shop called Quality Quidditch Supplies and moved closer to peer through the window displaying a sleek and shiny broomstick with a mahogany handle and it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs. Near the top of the handle were the words "Nimbus Two-Thousand" written in gold. The three Weasley boys were looking at it with the expression of longing on their faces.

Arthur was very interested in this broomstick; he considered getting it before he remembered gloomily that First years at Hogwarts weren't allowed to have their own broomsticks_. Maybe next year_, he thought, scanning the price. _Maybe then, it would be a little cheaper…. _

Even Mark, who was a Muggle and completely new to the Wizarding World, thought it look wonderful.

Finally, the five boys turned away from this splendid sight, their mothers calling and beckoning them to come on, and they moved forward down the street.

After many pauses to look through a window displaying an assortment of wizard goodies and gadgets, they finally reached the snowy white building that reminded Arthur of the White House in the United States

A very small man with long pointy ears stood beside the door, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold. Arthur knew that this man couldn't be fully human, not with those pointy ears, short size and very long fingers and feet.

As they walked past him toward to golden double doors, Arthur looked back over his shoulder at the pointy-eared creature.

"What is that?" Arthur whispered to Ron, watching the creature out of the corner of his eye. He noticed that the one of the creature's pointy ears twitched at his question, as though he had heard, but didn't turn to look at him or speak.

Ron glanced at the creature and then he lowered his voice to a whisper and said: "That's a goblin, they run the place and in charge of our banking system."

"Oh," Arthur said, still watch the goblin as the entered the building. The goblin's appearance came as a surprise to him; his old bedtime story books has always illustrated the goblins as a green-skinned creature with a warty face, but no, this goblin has white skin, a pointed nose, pointy ears and very long fingers and feet. To Arthur, the goblin looks more like a pointy-eared dwarf because of the goblin's short height.

Finally, he turned to look at what was in front of him, he and his family, alongside the Weasleys, were looking at a second set of double doors, silver this time, with words written in gray on it.

_Enter stranger, but take heed _

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours _

_Thief, you have been warned, beware _

_Of finding more than treasure there _

After reading this poem through twice, Arthur felt an ominous feeling along with a sense of pity toward anyone would be unfortunate and foolish enough to try and steal from this bank.

Arthur and Mark looked around at this splendid bank, at the marble floor, at all the goblins along a row of desk, writing on parchments with quills, while Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong, with some help from Mrs. Weasley, talked to the Head Goblin and traded their Muggle money for Wizard money

After an hour, they managed to open a bank account in Arthur's name. Mrs. Armstrong put a handful of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts into her handbag, while the rest were to be stored in Arthur's new vault.

Finally, they were back outside in the gleaming courtyard.

"Shall we get my wand first?" Arthur asked his mother eagerly.

"No, Molly said that the wand is always the last thing to get," Mrs. Armstrong. "So we'll have an early lunch and then we'll get your books, cauldron, robes and we're thinking of getting you an owl, so you'll have one to send us letters from school."

"Yeah, cool!" Arthur said happily. "That'd be great, Mom."

They went back to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. Mr. Armstrong insisted on treating the Weasleys to lunch.

Ron saw that Arthur had ordered a hamburger, something he had never tried before and ordered one for himself.

"Blimey, this is good!" Ron exclaimed, after taking a bite of his hamburger, and he took another bite with enthusiasm.

"You never had a hamburger before?" Arthur asked incredulously, for him, hamburgers and fries were a very common lunch meal.

Ron shook his head. "I've always wanted to try one, but we couldn't affor—" he broke off, his ears turning red and he spared himself from completing the sentence by taking another bite of his hamburger and Arthur didn't pressed him for more.

After lunch, they went to Flourish and Blotts' bookshop.

"Okay, first you need the Standard Book of Spells, Grade One by Miranda Goshook," said Mrs. Armstrong, consulting Arthur's booklist.

They browsed through the shelves until they found the Standard Book of Spells series. Mrs. Armstrong instantly found the Grade One book, but Arthur grabbed a really thick and heavy book called _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One Thru Seven: 40__th__ Anniversary Edition by Miranda Goshawk. _

"Let's get this instead," Arthur said, holding up the book in both hands for his mother to see. "This would make one less book to buy every year."

Mrs. Armstrong took the book from Arthur and laid it on the table nearest them. She laid the Grade One book next to it and opened both books, turning to page one of both books. She read the whole page carefully from both books and saw that they were exactly the same. She nodded in satisfaction and put the Grade One book back onto its shelf.

"You're right; this would be one less book to buy each year," she said, handing the thick and heavy book back to Arthur. Then she crossed out the Standard Book of Spells from the list. "Right, now we need _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot…"

After they have bought all of Arthur's required books, they left the bookshop and went and got Arthur a cauldron, a trunk, robes and all other equipment he'd need for his first year at Hogwarts.

"I think it's time we got Arthur his owl." Mr. Armstrong said to Mrs. Armstrong, nodding toward Eeylops Owl Emporium.

"I think so too," Mrs. Armstrong agreed, so they went into the shop, the Weasleys waiting outside.

They had barely entered the shop when a black Great Horned owl came swooping down, landing on a startled Arthur's shoulder and started nibbling his ear affectionately.

Once he got over the shock of an owl swooping down on him, Arthur had to admit that this owl was very friendly and he giggled as the owl continues nibbling his ear.

"I like this one," he said, stroking the owl's head.

A few minutes later, they were leaving the shop with the black Great Horned owl in his cage.

"Cool owl," Ron said, looking at it, Arthur could tell that Ron like his owl. "What are you going to name it?"

"Merlin," Arthur replied happily.

Merlin gave an appreciative hoot from inside his cage

"Nice one," said Ron approvingly. "It's like King Arthur and Merlin. Very creative, Arthur."

"Thanks," Arthur said proudly.

"Just your wand left." Mrs. Armstrong said, consulting the supply list. "Let's head over to Olivander's Wand Shop."

"Okay, let's go!" Arthur said excitedly, he had really been looking forward to getting his wand. "Come on, Ron."

Ron looks rather gloomy as he replied. "I already got mine," he drew a wand out of his pocket and showed to Arthur.

Arthur took it and examined it. It was old and battered, it was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end. Arthur was disappointed with the quality of Ron's wand, but he handed it back without comments.

"Oh well, you can come and watch me get my wand!" he said, grabbing Ron by the arm and pulling him toward the shop.

They went all went into the dark shop together. A bell jingled as they entered and they all stared around, looking at the thousands of narrow boxes lined on the shelves, piling up toward the ceiling.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Arthur jumped as an old man with silvery eyes moved into the light. "Here for your first wand? Ah, and there you are, Mr. Weasley. I was wondering when I'd be seeing you here. Well then, let's get started, shall we? If you two would kindly follow me…"

"Hang on," Ron said, "I already got mine." And he took his wand out and showed it Mr. Olivander. Mr. Olivander held out his hand for it, Ron handed it over. Mr. Olivander held it close to his eye, examining it closely.

"Willow and unicorn hair—eleven inches, quite rigid…." Mr. Olivander muttered. "This was the wand of Fabian Prewett."

"What?" said Ron, looking surprised. "But I thought that was Charlie's old wand."

"Apparently it was passed down to him as it was to you by the late Fabian's sister," Mr. Olivander said coldly, looking over at Mrs. Weasley, who blushed and looked down at the floor. "This will not do, using another person's wand will severely handicap the wizard's magic." He handed the wand to Mrs. Weasley. "Keep this in memory of your brother. Come this way, Mr. Weasley." He said to Ron, beckoning him forward along with Arthur.

"But," said Mrs. Weasley weakly. "My son, Percy's been made a Prefect this year and I'd like to get him a new set of robes and my husband, Arthur was going to get him an owl."

"Do get your priorities straight, woman!" Mr. Olivander said exasperatedly, he pointed a finger at Ron. "This boy needs a wand of his own far more than Percy needing new robes and an owl! If you can't afford to reward your sons for being made Prefect or Head Boy, then stick with buying things they _NEED_!"

Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong glanced pityingly at Mrs. Weasley, who was blushing scarlet and looking like a little girl who had just been told off by a grandfatherly figure.

Percy shifted uncomfortably as he watched these exchanges. He had to admit, Mr. Olivander had a point. His mother's priorities were a little off.

"Let him have his wand, mother," Percy muttered. "I'll just make do with a secondhand robe. Mr. Olivander's right; instead of rewarding me, buy what Ron needs: a wand."

Mrs. Weasley seemed to struggle with herself for a moment and then she gave in. "Perhaps you're right, Percy," she said. "I supposed I just got all excited about you becoming Prefect that I lost sight of what's really important. Alright Ron, go get yourself a wand."

Looking delighted, Ron moved into steps beside Arthur, following Mr. Olivander to the middle of the shop.

Mr. Olivander turned to the two boys, drawing a pair of tape measures from his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?" he asked.

Ron extended his right arm to Mr. Olivander, while Arthur extended his left, as he was left-handed.

"A lefty, eh?" Mr. Olivander said interestedly as he started measuring them. "Lefties usually turn out to be very powerful wizards, it has been theorized that lefties are extra powerful because magic is being produced on the heart side of the body, as though the magic is coming from the heart as well as the magical core within the wizard. Merlin himself, I believe was left-handed."

Arthur was looking awed at this piece of information.

As he continues to measure Arthur and Ron, Mr. Olivander said: "Every Olivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Olivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. _And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand_," he said, directing his last sentence at Mrs. Weasley

As Mr. Olivander strode over to the shelves, taking down long, thin, narrow boxes, Arthur realized the tape measure was measuring around his waist on its own accord.

"That will do," Mr. Olivander said and the tape measures fell into a heap on the floor. "Right then, you first, Mr. Weasley—willow and unicorn hair, fourteen inches, nice and flexible." He handed Ron the wand.

Ron's eyes widen as he took the wand, he raised it high above his head and brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of white and blue spark shot out of the tip.

Ron's brothers whooped and clapped, while Mr. Olivander cried: "Oh bravo! Yes indeed! Oh, very good, and on your first try, too!"

Ron looked rather pleased with himself as he handed his wand back to Mr. Olivander, who took it and put it back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper before handing it back to Ron.

"Right then, your turn, Mr…." Mr. Olivander said, looking inquiringly at Arthur.

"Armstrong, sir, Arthur Armstrong."

"Well then, Mr. Armstrong," Mr. Olivander handed him a wand. "Maple and phoenix feather, ten inches, just take it and give it a wave."

Arthur took the wand and feeling foolish, waved it around a bit. Nothing happened. Disappointed, he handed back to Mr. Olivander, who looked delighted as he put the wand back into its box and pulled another one out.

"Try this, vine and unicorn hair, twelve inches."

Arthur tried and tried, the boxes of tried wands were piling up higher and higher, Mr. Olivander was looking happier and happier with each tries.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find a perfect match here somewhere!" Mr. Olivander said delightedly.

Arthur tried yet more wands, none of them suited him. It wasn't until Mr. Olivander handed him a dark, reddish-brown wand with a black tree bark-like handle.

"Cherry and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and staple."

Arthur took the wand and felt the sudden warmth in his fingers, he raised the wand and brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and green sparks shot of the end.

Everyone in the shop clapped and cheered as Arthur handed over his wand to Mr. Olivander and he placed it back in its box and wrapped it in brown paper.

Mrs. Armstrong paid seven Galleons for Arthur's wand. Mrs. Weasley was looking nervous as she checked her handbag, and found that she was two Galleons short.

Mr. Armstrong bent down and pretended to pick something up off the floor. When he straightens up again, he held out two Galleons to Mrs. Weasley, saying: "Here, Molly, I think you dropped this."

Mrs. Weasley smiled, she wasn't fooled, but she knew now that Ron needed his own wand, and already a wand had chosen him…So she decided to play along just this once.

"Oh!" she said in tones of great surprise. "I supposed I did, thank you very much," as she took the money to pay for Ron's wand, she thought: _I really hate taking money like this. That is it! When Arthur gets home, I'm going to talk him into getting a better-paying job! Honestly, his family is more important than his Muggle rubbish! And maybe I should get a job too, once the boys are in Hogwarts. Ginny can stay with the Lovegoods. She and Luna always got along so well. _

Wands paid for, Mr. Olivander bowed them from his shop.

"Thank you, Mathew." Mrs. Weasley said to Mr. Armstrong as they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron with all of their shopping bags. "I'll pay you back for this in time."

"Don't worry about it, Molly. You don't owe me anything." Mr. Armstrong said as wheeled Arthur's trunk and Merlin's cage along the street.

They spent the rest of the day enjoying each other's company. Even though their original destination was the Leaky Cauldron, Mrs. Armstrong kept making detours into every shop they pass.

Mr. Armstrong bought all the kids large ice creams from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, to give them a treat as well as to give them a break from his shopping-maniac wife.

Arthur was eating something called Hogwarts Heaven, which was a vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup, sprinkles and chopped peanut butter cups. It was delicious! He ate it slowly, savoring its' goodness.

By evening, Mrs. Armstrong was finally worn out from her shopping. So they made way back through the wall into the Leaky Cauldron, and out into the Muggle world.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**I hope you've enjoyed this long, eventful chapter. I feel I owe an explanation regarding Molly Weasley. I like her, I think she's a good person, a faithful wife and a fine mother. But she has flaws, just like everyone else in the world. One of my problems with her is her lack of logics; she buys Percy new robes and leaves Ron with an old, battered wand? She should've bought the wand.**

**She favors her older sons and compares her younger ones with their older siblings, that's another problem I have with her. In that, it is partly her fault that Ron has all these issues and insecurities. **

**I theorized that Ron's first wand, which he said had once belongs to Charlie, had once belong to Fabian Prewett. In the **_**Sorcerer's Stone**_**, the wand was described as being very battered, chipped in places with unicorn hair poking out. Charlie didn't strike me as being careless with something as important as a wand. In the **_**Deathly Hallows**_**, Mrs. Weasley gave Harry a watch that had once belong to Fabian, it was a bit dented on the back. Mr. Weasley said that Fabian "wasn't terribly careful with his possessions." Re-reading the **_**Sorcerer's Stone**_** for references for this Fan Fiction, Ron's battered wand stood out more than usual, and then I remembered Mrs. Weasley's comment about Fabian not being careful with his things in the **_**Deathly Hallows**_**. I put two and two together and came to the conclusion that Fabian's wand has been passed to Charlie, who passed it to Ron when he got a new wand. **

**Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. More is on the way! Please leave some reviews and comments on your way out!  
**


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